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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456286">Finding Sincerity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amintadefender/pseuds/Amintadefender'>Amintadefender</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Code Geass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesiac Lelouch, Banter, Gen, OVA: Code Geass: Akito the Exiled</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:29:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amintadefender/pseuds/Amintadefender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind enemy lines, Leila has taken on a mission: kill the enemy commander, Julius Kingsley. Accompanying her is a strange Britannian boy, Lelouch, who suffers from amnesia.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lelouch Lamperouge &amp; Leila Malcal, Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia/Leila Malcal, if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Finding Sincerity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Months of endless losses and countless condolences letters has led to this moment—here, stranded behind enemy lines. Her heart has been pounding nonstop ever since Britannia's White Reaper descended from the sky and cut her knightmare down. It's only because of Akito's timely actions that she managed to eject and delay her inevitable demise. She hopes her squadron will live to fight another day; she can only try to make her death mean something. To do that she must assassinate the enemy's commander. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sent by the Emperor, Julius Kingsley is a devastating and brilliant foe. The battlefield is his stage, and they are unwilling puppets playing into his hand, only realizing the trap when it's too late. At his personal command is the White Reaper, Suzaku Kururugi. When they finish a battle, only carnage remains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are rules to war—unspoken expectations and enshrined by national treaties. Kingsley set them aflame. Civilians, prisoners of war, and combatants are indistinguishable. They all die en-masse as Leila's hand cramps from signing another letter: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I regret to inform you... </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like their master, Kururugi and Kingsley are devoid of compassion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hardening her heart, Leila raises the gun and aims it at the startled noble. "Where is Julius Kingsley?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lone purple eye narrows, and she wonders what kind of injury befell him to necessitate an eye patch. He raises his hands, handcuffs clinking. "Would you mind giving me a hair pin first?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gold and silver threads of his clothes gleam. The Britannian crest neatly sewn on each garment, including his eyepatch, leaves no doubt to his allegiance. Everything about him screams noble from his calm composure to the jewel hanging beneath his eyepatch. Yet, he is a prisoner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did you do?" she growls and steps forward. The door slams shut behind her. A criminal by Britannian standards must be truly reprehensible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I... I don't remember."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's convenient."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scowls. "The last I remember was bringing—" Wincing, he leans forward and presses his hand to his eyepatch. "I need to return to school."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>School? Without the invasion, that is where Leila would be as well—a fine military academy. Instead, she was drafted as General Smilas's aide and, as their losses began to climb, given command. Her hands are now stained in the blood of her mistakes. Like her, he is young. They could be the same age. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glances at the window and the smoke, stained in red. There won't be much of the city left when the battle finally concludes. Only crumbling blackened homes and funeral marches. "Which school?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ashford Academy," he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tokyo..." His brow furrows. "Where am I?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The confusion feels honest. "St. Petersburg, Russia."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His jaw works silently. "I may have forgotten more than I thought. Who are you with?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The E.U." She bites her lip and withdraws a hair pin. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Malcal." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks the handcuffs with fascinating ease. Amnesiac he may be, but he is no simple nobleman. He extends his hand. "We should hurry. The alarm on the door triggered five minutes ago."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heart racing, she pins his arms behind his back. "I thought you couldn't remember."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a standard security system," he says calmly, too calmly. "While I cannot remember much of my own life or the circumstances which brought me here, I do possess unexplained knowledge. You do have a mission? This... Julius Kinglsey fellow? I will help you in what way I can, and you will help me escape, so I can return... home."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why? You would betray your country?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sniffs and his voice drips with disdain. "I hardly consider myself a Britannian. Striking a blow against the Empire by aiding you is an additional benefit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your clothes beg to differ." She clasps the handcuffs around both their wrists. If he told the truth, then she needs to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A development I would love an answer to myself." He tugs her forward to the wall and runs his free hand along the paneling. It clicks open, revealing a secret passageway, and he turns to her with an infuriating smirk. "Will you turn down my help now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snarls and pushes him into the dark tunnel. She needs him much as she loathes to admit it. With him, there is even a chance that she will survive to fight another day. He knows his way through these secret pathways and is familiar with Britannian security. His aid may be the difference between death and success.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pause as bombs rattle the palace, and dust showers upon them. The E.U. is having more success than she ever imagined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you remember your name?" Pounding footsteps above bid her to be silent and wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hisses, once again clutching his masked eye. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. "Lelouch... Lamperouge."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You made that up." It is so clearly French. No self-respecting Britannian would ever call themselves such. "You're not going to trick me like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's the only name you will get," Lelouch grumbles and pulls her further along. "Where do you think Kingsley would be?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's a military advisor sent by the Emper—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch kneels over in pain, his ragged breaths echoing through the passageway. For a moment, he seems to get better, his frantic breaths regulating, then he collapses, pulling Leila down to the ground with him. She freezes at his soft whimpers of pain. Hesitantly, she fumbles in the dark for his wrist. A rapid pulse beats against her fingers. There is no faking this, nor can amnesia explain it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breaths quiet. "Who are you? Where am I?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The childish hint to his voice stalls her rebuke. "I'm with the E.U. We're in Russia."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please don't hurt Nunnally," he begs. "I'll do anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nunnally?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He falls abruptly silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She staggers to her feet and pushes him forward. The mystery will have to wait. First, she needed to kill Kingsley. Nothing else matters if she wants the E.U. to survive. Taking advantage of an amnesiac is hardly going to weigh on her mind when Kingsley leaves fields of corpses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How old are you?" she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ten."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're suffering from amnesia. You said you would help me find Kingsley,—an important Britannian—and I would help you go home... to Ashford Academy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the dim light filtering through floorboards, he looks down at himself. His hand brushes against the eyepatch, and he lifts the edge before abruptly dropping his hands as if burnt. He stops. "Am I a hostage?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do not trust you, but we are allies for now," she answers. Maybe he is a hostage. It would explain the fine clothes and his older version's willingness to strike against Britannia. "You, the older one, theorized that you still retain your knowledge."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and opens a small door to the deserted kitchen. "If your Kingsley is important, he'll be on the top floors. We can take the dumbwaiter up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, she steps into the light. Lelouch's attention is too focused on the knives for comfort, and she pulls him away. Where his older counterpart was confident, he is nervous and hesitant but hides it well. Or maybe his older self has simply perfected the mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A meow brings her out of her thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Arthur!" Lelouch lunges forward, pulling her along and pets the cat. "I feel like I should hate you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the midst of enemy territory, they cannot afford to shower a cat with affection. The cat purrs and winds around her legs. Even if the cat undoubtedly deserves it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Leave the cat," she orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch picks up the cat defiantly. "He'll get hurt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hopefully, the older and more sane version will reappear soon, but she does not have the time to quarrel. If he wants a cat, he can take the cat. At best, they can throw it at a Britannian soldier as a distraction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exiting the dumbwaiter, she notices the more decadent furniture and lavish tapestries. A man of Kingsley's ego would undoubtedly live here. The carpet softens their footsteps, and Lelouch gently murmurs reassurances to Arthur who observes his surroundings warily. His ears twitch, and she shoves Lelouch behind a suit of armor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers stick to the gun as distant voices approach. With Lelouch chained to her wrist, she is unable to move easily. Unfortunately, letting him go is out of the question. She does not trust him to remain at her side instead of running into the enemy's arm when bullets begin to fly. Unlike her, he won't die if he seeks the aid of the Britannians.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sir Kururugi, please wait! He cannot have gone far."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I said he wasn't feeling well and thought you could watch him for an hour. Clearly, I was mistaken." Kururugi huffed. "Get the hounds."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But sir—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"His Majesty will be most displeased should we lose him," Kururugi growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leila's gaze drifts to her frozen companion. Is he the one they are looking for? The Britannians don't know of her presence yet, but she will be compromised if they begin actively searching for him. She should abandon him to his fate. They are his people after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he helped her despite not needing to. Will she truly reward his trust with betrayal?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch squirms, shifting to get a better view. A split second is all the warning she has before he dashes forward with a loud cry of "Suzaku!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Violently, she pulls him back and trains her gun on Sir Kururugi, the White Reaper. She would much rather eliminate Kingsley. He is the mastermind behind Britannia's push into the E.U. But if she can only eliminate Kururugi, she will be satisfied. Kingsley's plans are only as effective because of the knight's presence on the battlefield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kingsley," Kururugi says, and she freezes, looking for the commander. But Kururugi is staring directly at her—no, directly at Lelouch. "You were supposed to stay in your rooms."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She presses the gun against Lel—Kingsley's head and watches in satisfaction as Kururugi stiffens. The Emperor has an interest in Kingsley; Kururugi cannot let him die. But she's still not sure if the youth who had guided her through the passageways </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kingsley. He is most certainly not what she expected.  His muffled gasp only reaffirms her doubts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kururugi takes a threatening step forward and freezes as her finger taps the trigger. "Let him go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiff as a board, Kingsley begs, "Please, Suzaku. I don't understand. Why are you old? Who is Kingsley?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still doesn't remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lelouch.” Kururugi confirms her suspicions that Kingsley and Lelouch are not the same. "You hit your head. She's your enemy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She prepares herself for a struggle and to pull the damning trigger. Instead, Lelouch hugs the cat tightly and slowly observes the room. None of them dare to move, unsure what decision he will make. Kururugi wants him alive; she is unsure if she wants him dead and to end her own life. Perhaps there is a way for them to both escape with their lives. A Kingsley in E.U. custody still deprives Britannia of its most deadly commander.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Lelouch focuses on Kururugi again. "Where is Nunnally?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kururugi flinches at the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why am I with Britannia?" Lelouch asks, almost spitting the name of his country. Why had his elder self taken on a new identity to serve his country? There is something missing. "Why are you wearing a Knights of the Round uniform? Who—" He swallows and continues quietly, desperately, "Who brought me back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cat meows, and she notices her pocket is strangely light.... the grenade. Lelouch gives no hint of being armed, and his eyes never leave Kururugi as he waits for an answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kururugi straightens. "Your place is—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never," Lelouch snarls. "I will never serve that man!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you hate them even then?" Kururugi asks sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You promised—" Lelouch's breath hitches and her blood freezes as a small pin falls to the ground. "You were my friend, Suzaku. I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He throws the cat and the grenade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Arthur!" Kururugi shouts, disregarding the grenade and diving to save the cat. Apparently, the White Reaper likes cats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls the boy along and dives out the window, desperately hoping that something will slow their fall as an explosion rips through the upper floor and heat sears her skin. The cool snow is a tender relief, wrapping around them as embers drift through the sky. Her ears ring, and she wearily turns her head to stare at the suicidal idiot she chained herself to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mad tinge of his laughter makes ice drip down her spine—or that may be actual ice. The young, betrayed boy snatched out of time is gone, replaced by something much more mature and sinister. His purple eye greets her, and he smirks. "I never thought I would thank the E.U. for anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is this Kingsley? His actions aren't hard to reconcile with this iteration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to go," he orders and pulls her to her feet, his gaze sweeping from the handcuffs, over the grounds, and to the distant smoke. "Britannian forces are nearly done repelling your assault, and Suzaku won't be delayed long."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You threw a grenade at him." And that was him in the mind of a ten year old. Who does that? She shivers and pulls her coat tighter. Night time is falling, and the temperature is rapidly dropping, threatening to doom them to an icy grave. "You're my prisoner, remember that, Kingsley."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't call me that." He yanks her wrist and points at the distant hedge. "If you want to live, you'll do as I say."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She still has her gun, and her frozen fingers creak as they curl around the grip. "Who are you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lelouch Lamperouge," he says firmly. "I'm the eldest. Let's go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And Kingsley?" She raises the gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Undiluted rage tears through his face before it eerily smooths over. "An imposter."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's all she gets from him as they race across the grounds to the ever distant promise of freedom. General Smilas would say to kill him; he's a liability. Her own squadron would hesitate for a moment before doing what has to be done. Yet, she cannot lift the gun and take the final shot. Were he in her position, she has no doubt he would kill her. Only the lack of a weapon ensures his cooperation for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it's that the thought of coldly executing someone makes her queasy. Or maybe it's the unsolved mystery of how he became Kingsley. While she sees the edges of his personality that works into the ruthless commander, every version of him eagerly turned against Britannia. She despises the contradiction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a drainage tunnel, they pause as distant hounds howl. Face contorted in pain, Lelouch sinks to the ground and clutches his eye. His body ransacked by tremors, he attempts to take another step before tumbling to the ground in a flurry of muffled curses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever caused his amnesia has left other invisible injuries. She bites her lip and takes pity on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huddled together, she waits for his tremors to subside and basks in his meager heat. Water is seeping in her boots, and their hands chained together have turned a sickly white. Frostbite is quickly becoming a real concern. The distant barking hounds are coming even closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to move," she whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know." He coughs, and she doesn't remark on the disturbing rattle. "Shouldn't have skipped gym class... not that it would have made much of a difference."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he seems to have recovered somewhat. She pulls him to his feet. He's cold—too cold. Grimacing, she slips her free arm out of her jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," he says. "Do you have a knife?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to lay a false trail. We can't outrun the dogs." He shivers and hugs himself. "If we're about to be caught, promise you'll kill me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annoyed, he glares at her. "Kingsley is your enemy, is he not? I will happily live to fight another day, but I refuse to become </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls out her knife and begins to mutilate his cape. The hounds are most likely tracking his scent. "Why did you become Kingsley?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Promise me. And no matter what I say, I do not wish to return to Britannia." He winces and his hand traces the eyepatch again. "I don't have much longer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until he dies? No, he is too calm for that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leila lets go of a strip of cloth and the wind carries it away. "You mean I have to drag one of your younger selves along?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you're lucky," he murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling her eyes, she drags him outside. Wind to her back, she begins the long route to freedom and escape. At least if they die in the cold, she'll have deprived Britannia of Kingsley. It's a bitter comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She notices the shift almost instantly. Lelouch, who was stumbling along weakly but with purpose, becomes hesitant. She expects him to say something, to have a question. Instead, he is silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who are you?" she dares to ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My mother will kill you for kidnapping me," he says imperiously. "Return me now and you may have a quick death."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is the attitude she expects of Kingsley. None of his previous iterations wielded noble privilege. Perhaps he is two people in one: Lelouch and Kingsley. One a man who hates his country, the other her most loyal servant. Unfortunately, this version will not aid her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling him closer, she continues the tedious climb through the heavy falling snow. Hopefully, it will mask their trail. "And who is your mother?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivers. "You don't know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts. "I wouldn't be asking you if you did. You agreed to work with me, but your amnesia makes it confusing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which family sent you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm with the E.U," she says. He becomes tense at that statement. Her allegiance is most unwelcome news. "You asked me to bring you to Ashford Academy. Although escape is the priority."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Ashfords started a school? But mother—" He falls silent again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How old are you, Lelouch?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eight," he says grudgingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A spoiled, rich noble brat would have corrected her if she got his name wrong, right? So he is Lelouch, not Kingsley? Yet, he is strange for an eight year old who believes himself to be kidnapped. Way too calm for one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can no longer hear the hounds, nor can she feel her toes. Lifting her stiff hand, she brushes the snow out of her blond hair. She can barely see her hand before her face. Shelter is now the priority, lest they freeze to death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Help me," she orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch's lips curl, but he concedes after her stern gaze. He too can feel the rapidly dropping temperature. They dig through the waning hours of twilight, their skin turning raw and bloody. Within the snow bank, they form a small shelter protected from the elements, but still pitifully cold. Neither has the energy to make it any larger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhausted, she crawls inside and curls up on the ground. Lelouch grumbles and proclaims it undignified, but his warm body curls up next to her. Together, they fall asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wakes to someone fiddling with the handcuffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which one are you?" she grumbles into the darkness. "How old are you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitates. "Seventeen." The handcuffs click free, and she's too exhausted to protest. Snow crunches as he recedes. "I seem to have lost some months. If you want to live, I suggest you comply."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The familiar weight of the gun is gone. Her heart hammers, and she nods despite knowing he can't see her. The tables have turned. That's what she gets for letting down her guard. "Kingsley?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lelouch then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How do you know that name?" He hisses, his hot breath sticky against her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You told me." She sits up and rolls her shoulder, her joints cracking. "We should go before Britannia catches us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who are you with?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The E.U.," she answers and begins the tedious process of digging their way to freedom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eight year-old self was wary when he learned. This Lelouch chuckles. "Was I in Britannian custody?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Define custody." Light breaches their icy cave. "You were in the laps of Britannian luxury with Kururugi as your personal guard."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch steps outside. They're surrounded only by snow, ice, and endless trees. The fires of yesterday have been extinguished, leaving crystal clear blue skies. Normally, this would be a beautiful day to celebrate. Now, it only reaffirms their need to find civilization to survive. Her stomach growls. Another night in the cold, and they will be dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Suzaku joined the Black Knights?" he asks hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To refer to the White Reaper so informally speaks of a familiarity that she can't help but be curious of. "How do you know him?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He regards her coldly. "You didn't answer my question."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen pretty boy,"—she smirks at his outrage—"I've been doing a fair bit of answering. Now, I know where we are. You don't. We can part ways, and you can wander aimlessly and probably die or be captured to Britannia. Or you can be helpful."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's a childhood friend," he answers, which explains nothing. Kururugi is an Eleven, Japanese. How the hell did he ever befriend a Britannian?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking to the rising sun, she watches him out of the corner of her eyes. "He's a Knight of the Round. You must be someone mighty special for the Emperor to go to such lengths for your protection."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He swore allegiance to that man?" he shouts. His hand clenches, and he walks faster. "No, that doesn't make sense. He would never elevate an Eleven."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Interesting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Princess Euphemia knighted him first—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But he's supposed to be—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"—before Zero killed her," she finishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Visibly shaken, he hangs his head. "Why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Probably because she massacred all the Japanese."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She would never do that," he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like with the Emperor, he speaks of her informally as if he can know what they would do. It's unsettling. But nobody believed Princess Euphemia was capable of massacre until she did so on live TV. Zero then killed her and launched his Black Rebellion only to disappear at the height of battle. She cannot help but feel like Lelouch would know why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you with the Black Knights?" she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You could say so." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought they were all Elevens."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The fight for freedom calls to all hearts and minds. One only has to open their eyes to Britannia's corruption and cruelty. To see it and willfully turn away and do nothing is despicable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Poetic words, but Zero still lost."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes..." He glances down at the Britannian sigil on his shirt. "He did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns the conversation to more lighthearted subjects. He does not trust her, cannot trust her with his memories shattered. But she can either build rapport or silently watch the sun trek across the sky as they amble through the snow. Despite the guarded nature of his answer, she cannot help but like him. His tongue is sharper than her own, tearing into Britannia and the Emperor with ease. He has no trouble following her arguments and formulating logical objections. And he is incredibly passionate... although his potential as Kingsley manifests in those moments as he discusses battle strategies in terrifying detail. General Smilas would like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So what were you planning to do with your future?" she asks and gestures at the barren landscape except for the distant hazy dark forms of a village. "Had you not gotten stranded in the middle of nowhere."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. "Gamble on chess. Take care of my—" He winces. "—someone important. Lofty ambitions tend to ruin your health."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which is why you joined a terrorist group." She nods in mock seriousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glares. "Health is secondary to the pursuit of justice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So you wanted to be a lawyer?" She chuckles at his shudder. "You're right. It lacks the thrill of following a masked leader. Or the thrill of illegal gambling."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Living under a false name makes legal jobs difficult," he says and brushes his masked eye again. Some memories remain locked away. "The Black Knights have pensions."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Had," she corrects. With Zero executed, they are no more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He purses his lips. "I'll need new clothes. I doubt the locals will be welcoming of me in this attire."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Especially because you look like a noble. We'll figure something out, but remember you are my prisoner." She pulls out the handcuffs again and dangles them threateningly. "No running off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wouldn't get very far anyways."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because you skipped gym."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at her and nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She manages to buy two new coats with the last of her cash. Nobody can now tell that Leila is from the E.U. unless they personally recognize her. Lelouch though... He still refuses to take the ridiculously ornate eyepatch off. Every attempt of hers to forcefully remove it leaves him curled up on the ground in unimaginable pain. In desperation, she ties a scarf around his head to cover the eyepatch. For now, it solves the problem, but it makes him all too memorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach growls, and she checks her pockets for a spare coin. The single euro coin lies in her hand pathetically. If she's lucky, she will be able to buy a single bread roll from the previous day. It's nowhere near enough for food, water, and shelter for two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch shakes his head and reaches beneath the bandana. A quiet snap follows, and he opens his palm for her, revealing the single purple crystal. He smirks and waves at a nearby elderly lady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His French is accented but surprisingly fluent for a Britannian. "Excuse me? May I beg you for some of your time for directions, Miss? My fiancee and I were traveling to meet the in-laws. You know how it is. But our car broke down, and we thought we could walk the rest of the way, but I seem to have gotten terribly turned around."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clenches her jaw at his presumptuousness. Fiancee? He is conning the poor woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old woman falls headfirst into the trap. "Oh, you poor dears. Where are you heading to?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch rests a hand on her shoulder and twists his head. "Leila, where do your parents live?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to throttle him, but they have no money and are trying to keep a low profile. "They're in Yoksolovo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, dear. You are rather far. And you're absolutely freezing." Overriding their polite protests, she ushers them into her house and sets a kettle on the stove. "Warm yourselves by the fire."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the woman is gone, Leila hisses, "Do you have no shame?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you want to go with we're on the run from Britannia and will you please shelter us from the army?" He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. "The jewel should be enough compensation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallows but doesn't protest. A decision which she thoroughly regrets as the sun sets and the woman bids them to sleep in her guest room with a single bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll sleep on the floor," Lelouch offers. "I'm used to it anyway."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pissed off your girlfriend frequently?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns. "Maybe, I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beneath the warm comforter, she listens to the thin sheet slide over the floor and him tossing and turning. She sighs. "The bed is large enough. Besides, I would feel safer with you restrained if one of your other personalities makes an emergence."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mattress sinks beneath his unexpected weight and the handcuffs clasp shut, secured to the bed frame. "If she walks in on us..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were the one who insisted on this cover story." She turns her back to him. "You could have said we were siblings."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nunnally..." he whispers, and the Lelouch she has come to know is gone. She remains silent, ears straining for a clue and mourns the loss of her amicable companion. The new version will not know her. "I remember. Thank you... Leila."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The eldest?" she guesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles. "Yes. My memories are returning, confusing as they may be. We should split."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're still Kingsley and my prisoner. He massacred civilians. I am not risking his return to Britannia."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes... that was rather stupid of him," he murmurs. Stupid, not despicable. "But Suzaku will be looking for us, and his tenacity is not to be underestimated."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will kill you before letting you fall into Britannian custody... like I promised." She rolls over and, eyes straining, observes his shadowed form. "What did you mean Kingsley is an imposter?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's not real."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then Kingsley's crimes are your own?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. "It's complicated. I am Kingsley, but he is not me. I would never aid Britannia willingly; he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Emperor."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do you hate Britannia?" she asks. As an eight year-old he acted mostly as expected of a noble and had been afraid of her. The older versions though were easily swayed once it was clear she wasn't Britannian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why would I not hate a tyrant?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glowers and yanks the blanket. If he is going to be obstinate, then she will ignore him. His cooperation is helpful, but ultimately unnecessary. She entered the palace knowing she would die. Every breath she takes is merely stolen time. If she lives, it will be a miracle. But if she dies, so will Kingsley... permanently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have questions... You may ask one." He pauses. "Not of Kingsley... or Britannia... or Suzaku."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All her questions concern that... except: "Who is Nunnally?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath hitches, and she fears he won't answer. "My sister."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is she?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know." He laughs, broken and bitter. "I must assume the Emperor has her and hope Suzaku won't let her come to harm."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not knowing what to say, she reaches out a comforting hand to ease his overwhelming despair. He stiffens at the touch but relaxes. Back in the palace, he asked if he was a hostage. He believed himself to only be ten but expected such cruelty. While he escaped, his sister is now a hostage. If he doesn't return, will the Emperor kill her to prove a point? But why is he so important in the first place? No genius commander would earn the protection of a Knight of the Round.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels his calm and steady breaths, occasionally disturbed by a restless whimper. Even sleep does not allow him to escape his demons. She won't get any more answers tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the morning, they set out again. Lelouch, beset by paranoia that Kururugi is personally hunting them, refuses to follow the road. Instead, they cut through the forest, an old worn map their only guide. The old woman gifted them food for their long journey. She wants to feel guilty for deceiving her but can't. It's necessary for survival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hates how she is adopting Lelouch's utilitarian mindset. He will cross any line if the ends justify the means, and there are some lines which are not meant to be crossed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you have a plan?" Lelouch asks as they break for lunch. He eats quickly, his eye scanning their surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My squadron... If they survived, they will be looking for me in nearby towns."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's been two days."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She resists the temptation to bite her lip. The brutal cold has already caused them to crack and bleed. There is no need to make it worse because she is nervous. "I have faith."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffs. "Let's go and see where your faith leads us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brushes off the fresh snow and glowers at him. "Faith is what keeps me from killing you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, it's my usefulness which keeps me alive." He stomps ahead, the snow crunching beneath his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leila rolls her eyes. "Because I need another mouth to feed? I would be moving twice as fast if we didn't have to wait for you to catch your breath."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My knowledge is useful to the E.U." He crosses his arms. "You wouldn't have bothered otherwise."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would..." She swallows, taken aback by his cynicism. "If you want to help us you may, but you saved my life. As long as you don't return to Britannia, I won't say anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops, his lone eye staring through her and searching for the lie. She meets his gaze firmly and refuses to be cowed. What she said was the truth. He saved her life, and despite his coldness, she won't condemn him to a cell. Her superiors will be eager to eliminate a threat and bolster their waning morale. He should answer for his crime, but he doesn't deserve death when caught in the throes of ever shifting memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kingsley, she suspects, is an identity forced on him. Perhaps his mind broke with the knowledge that he had to comply or let his sister suffer. A defense mechanism of a sort. That explanation at least makes somewhat sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you're a fool."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were in the Black Knights," she says and he flinches. "Why else follow Zero but faith?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He brought results. There is nothing more to it." His clenched hand stops halfway to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A dead man cannot bring results, but the oppressed still praise his name. They continue to have faith in Zero and his goals. You felt strongly enough to join a revolution and pursue justice. Will you really abandon the fight because your leader is dead?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs. "Zero? The upstart terrorist is dead, rightly executed for going against His Majesty's kindness." A smirk crosses his face. "Your paltry words cannot sway my loyalty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is Kingsley, brimming with arrogance and power despite wearing a tattered coat. She hoped that Lelouch regaining his memories meant this darker personality would remain asleep forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing to say? You should bow to your betters." He sneers upon noticing his clothes. "What kind of rags are these?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ones keeping you from freezing." She rolls her eyes and pulls out the handcuffs. "Let's go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Absolutely not. I cannot be seen with some vagabond such as yourself." He sniffs. "Where is that damn, useless knight? He was ordered to ensure my safety, but what can one expect from a lowly Number?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An imposter, Lelouch said. Kingsley's attitude and mannerisms are a mockery of Lelouch's. They remind her somewhat of his youngest self with an extra, heavy dose of arrogance and without the fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifts her gun threateningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs. "My grandeur leaves you trembling in awe." Killing him is so tempting. "You lack the fortitude to pull that trigger. Do you think I fear death? No, I welcome it if it shall serve His Majesty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His blatant wide-eyed adoration is sickening. She cannot imagine such an expression on Lelouch's face, but it's there and Kingsley is in control. He is right though; she cannot shoot him, not when he is also Lelouch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, she tackles him and ignores his indignant cries. The handcuffs latch again around both their wrists, and she prays for patience as he attempts to fight. Without an army to command, he is as harmless as a kitten—his body too weak and frail to do her any damage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up," she orders as he begins another loud series of prideful objections. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will not. Unhand me this instance. Who do you think you are?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your rescuer," she retorts and relishes the horror on his face. "Why, you basically asked me to take you with me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would never. You kidnapped me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. You walked with me of your own volition." She grins. "You even claimed to be a member of the Black Knights."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eye narrows. "Be careful of what you insinuate. I would never reject His Majesty's kindness nor request the aid of a filthy commoner."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you did."  Baiting him is amusing. Unlike Lelouch, Kingsley is vocally indignant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will have your head for slander."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts. Slander is the least of her crimes in Britannia's eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dull whining sound ends her musings, and her heart pounds as her eyes ascend to the white knightmare floating above them—the Lancelot, the White Reaper, Suzaku Kururugi. Somehow, he has found them in the middle of nowhere. Kingsley is smirking, firmly entrenched in the ground. Even if she could outrun a knightmare, he tethers her to the spot. The smirk dies as she presses the gun to his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Painfully slow, the knightmare descends. The snow crumples beneath its weight, and the disturbance leaves the trees bare of snow. As the cockpit opens and Kururugi disembarks, her pounding heart takes residence in her throat. How the hell did he survive a grenade?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lelouch," Kururugi snarls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That is a boy’s name, Seven," Kingsley drawls. "I will report your dismal performance to His Majesty. Allowing me to be kidnapped? Reprehensible."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kingsley." Kururugi nods and turns to her, drawing his own gun. "Let him go, and I will allow you to live."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Live? Absolutely not," Kingsley barks. "She slandered my good name. I demand you bring me her head."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Leila and Kururugi lock eyes in mutual exasperation. It's a hint of humanity in Kururugi's icy demeanor. He is here out of duty, not because he likes Kingsley. Given his assignment as a guard, he has to know the cause of the amnesia and dizzying carousel of alternate Lelouchs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want answers," she calls. "But take another step, and I blow his head out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kururugi pauses and glares. "Do not drag innocents into your fight."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Innocents?" She scoffs. "You and Kingsley wiped out entire towns to claim a Britannian victory. His guilt is unquestionable. No, I want to know..." There are many things she can ask. The nature of his amnesia. Britannia's plans and secrets. But she remembers Lelouch's broken laugh and despair. "Where is Nunnally?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Kururugi reels back, disturbed like the last time Lelouch asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who the hell is Nun—" Kingsley gasps and grasps his eyepatch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Composing himself, Kururugi stands at attention. His eyes flick to Kingsley hunched over in pain, betraying his unease. "This is really what you want to ask?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She juts out her chin. "Yes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did he tell you?" Kururugi asks warily. He should never be a politician. He gives himself away too easily. Lelouch's existence worries him. He is important. "Whatever he told you is undoubtedly a lie. It's what he does."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He didn't say much, but the pieces aren't that hard to put together. You knights claim to be honorable and just, but hold Nunnally, his sister, hostage."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which is why he has to return," Kururugi says, stricken. "We can avoid needless bloodshed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kingsley straightens. "What drivel are you spouting now, Seven? I demand you answer me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The matter doesn't concern you, Lord Kingsley."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"His Majesty entrusted me with his authority. Refusing an order is treason, Sir Kururugi. Answer me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pained, Kururugi looks away. "His Majesty said you are not to know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kingsley gasps and stumbles back as if struck. "Lelouch... You called me that before. Who is he!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is not the time nor place, Lord Kingsley."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tremors begin small. The clenching and unclenching of his fingers. His breaths turn unsteady. His trembling muscles coil, ready for action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lelouch..." Kururugi says slowly. "Don't do anything rash."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were friends," Leila realizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kururugi flinches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't call me that!" Kingsley snaps. "I am not him. I exist to please His Majesty. And I would most certainly never be friends with someone like you who is utterly useless at even the most basic tasks. You may have brought Zero to justice, but you are undeserving of being a Knight of the Round. I am ashamed of your conduct on His Majesty's behalf."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh... The pieces slide together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A deafening crack from the woods ends their standoff. She pulls Kingsley to the ground as bullets tear through the air, and Kururugi races back to the Lancelot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Leila," Akito cries. While his voice is amplified by the speakers, it does nothing to hide the sheer relief within. Her squadron has survived impossible odds, once again, to fight another day. This time they've done something more. They've come to rescue her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lancelot is powering up, but Akito is faster, hurtling forward and smashing through the float system. A metal hand gently scoops her and Kingsley up before they hurtle through the forest, away from the clamor of battle. Her squadron is saying something, but the words are ripped away by the howling wind. She's too relieved and grateful to care. She is going to live.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hair plastered to her face, she looks at Kingsley—no, Lelouch because he's laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're alive," Akito reaffirms as he barrels into the dorm and fusses over her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch lounges against the wall, the handcuffs finally discard. While his face is blank, she has the distinct feeling he is laughing at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lieutenant Hyuga," she barks, "enough. As you can see, I'm quite fine. There's no need to fuss."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their squadmates snicker as he flushes. Normally, he is composed and aloof. Akito hunches his shoulder. "We thought we lost you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I merely took a detour."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're all glad to have you back safe and sound," General Smilas says from the doorway. They snap to attention, and he waves them off. "Relax. This is an occasion to celebrate, but perhaps the Lieutenant Colonel should take from this the lesson that our strategist remains at the command post, not gallivanting into battle."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If a king doesn't lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow," Lelouch says quietly in lightly accented French. "Or rather, her subordinates."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We follow no kings here," General Smilas says.  "Who is our new friend, Leila?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mouth dries. Too many possible answers, all with devastating consequences. "He helped me escape."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unconcerned with the squad's hostile looks, Lelouch peels himself off the wall and extends his hand. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>General Smilas narrows his eyes. "And your name?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch ignores him, turning to Leila and bowing slightly. With it, he confirms he's a Britannian, and she grimaces. They won't be pleased. "You could've asked anything. Why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugs. "Nunnally was clearly important to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Befuddled, he says, "You had nothing to gain."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth opens silently, and he shakes his head slightly. The first genuine smile crosses his face. "You are undoubtedly foolish."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>General Smilas clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cheeks heated, Leila ducks her head. "This is Lelouch Lamperouge, sir." And because she wants to ensure he has a place here, she adds, "He threw a grenade at the White Reaper... and a cat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That damn cat deserved it," Lelouch grumbles, just as she was beginning to think he possessed a heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have my gratitude," General Smilas says. "I'm curious what would make a Britannian turn on his country?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch glances at her, his eyes unreadable. "The gun to my head helped a fair bit. She wasn't going to let Julius Kingsley go after all." The tension in the room spikes. A lazy grin crosses his face, and he bows mockingly. "It's always nice to meet your opponent face-to-face."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You bastard!" Ryo launches forward, his fist slamming into Lelouch's face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch stumbles back, cupping his nose, and switches to Japanese. Ryo freezes, confused, and stares at his other squadron mate, looking for guidance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Enough," General Smilas barks, stalling any further hostilities. He turns to Lelouch. "I hope you didn't expect to be greeted warmly, Kingsley."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lamperouge, please."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We will of course treat you more kindly than Britannia would, but you have made many enemies here." He pauses and frowns. "You should have kept silent. And Lieutenant Colonel? We'll be having words."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flinches. Not outing him immediately was a mistake, but he didn’t serve Britannia willingly. Lelouch and Kingsley, for all their similarities, are two distinct people. Neither of which should be held accountable for the other's action. But explaining that without sounding insane...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The truth would've come to light soon." Lelouch shrugs. "I'm sure Britannia will have a vested interest in my return, one which you do not share."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did it to protect her. To delay in revealing his role as Kingsley was questionable but can be disregarded due to returning from a high stress situation. But had the lie gone on for longer... Then her career would have been over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akito steps forward and wrenches Lelouch's hands behind his back. He doesn't resist as the handcuffs click shut, or when general Smilas orders Akito to escort him to the detention center. There, he will waste his days away while the council deliberates on his fate. Kingsley's crimes are numerous. He will most likely be executed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," she shouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Leila," General Smilas warns, "you're already on thin ice by not revealing who he was."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bites her cracked lip and the bitter taste of cooper seeps into her mouth. Should she reveal the truth? He hasn't and may not forgive her, but she cannot allow him to walk to his death, not when they don't understand the full truth. "He's also Zero."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Zero's dead," Ryo dismisses. "It was all over the news. Japan's last hope executed on his knees."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strangely, General Smilas doesn't dismiss her claims immediately. He looks at Lelouch consideringly. "Zero's allies claimed he was alive... and in Europe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't be serious." Ryo points dramatically. "There's no way Zero is some random kid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch frowns. "What is the date?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"December 4th," General Smilas answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shoulders sag and Lelouch shakes his head. "One more day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who is searching for you?" General Smilas asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C.C. probably. She would have asked for pizza. Or... Possibly Kozuki." Lelouch smirks. "Ah, both of them? I am surprised they managed to work together for so long."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Zero is a teenager," General Smilas says flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There are numerous reasons why I chose to wear a mask, but you cannot deny my results." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So Zero escaped his execution by working for Britannia instead under a false name?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's the question which she refrained from asking. Now, it sits in the air between them, damning with its implications. Every second he waits to answer, their suspicions mount. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the silence stretches on, Leila intervenes. "Kingsley didn't know he was Zero."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch grimaces. "The Emperor was loathe to let a valuable resource be wasted. He has... a way of suppressing troublesome memories. He cannot know I remember being Zero."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why?" General Smilas asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because he has his sister," Leila says, her mind a tumultuous mess. Brainwashing. Britannia can literally brainwash its subjects, and the proof is before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You expect me to believe such a fanciful fairy tale?" General Smilas leans forward. "Either you betrayed your cause to spare your life or this is an elaborate Britannian trap. Their intelligence could easily have learned of Zero's people."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's not lying, sir," Leila says. "I saw him slowly regaining his memories... and reverting. Kingsley is an entirely different personality. Please, sir. Trust my judgement. I will take full responsibility for his future actions."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If he betrays us to Britannia, you will be charged with aiding and abetting treason. Do you understand Leila?"  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lieutenant Hyuga, let him go. Lelouch," he says the name slowly with a strange emphasis, "is to be released into Leila's custody. We will confirm his identity with Zero's associates."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yukiya snorts from the corner of the room, where his fingers incessantly dance across the keyboard. "Either he's an imposter or delusional. The Emperor would never entrust the command of his armies to some teen." Lelouch bristles. "Especially some terrorist, even reformed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The White Reaper was his minder," Leila explains. "He knew that the original memories were resurfacing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slamming the laptop shut, Yukiya glares at Lelouch. "So what makes you so special? It's not like we've heard of other memory alterations. I checked. But he does it for you? A terrorist who killed one of his sons?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>General Smilas steps forward and grabs Lelouch's chin, studying it intently. "You're his son."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whose son? The name Lamperouge is foreign and ridiculous for a Britannian... The name is also fake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lelouch jerks backward, showing fear for the first time. "Don't call me that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relentless, General Smilas drives him to the wall where there is no room to escape. "A dead prince led a rebellion against his father. How cliche. I never thought I would see one of her spawns. But here you are, Lelouch vi Britannia."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I renounced that name a long time ago," Lelouch answers. "If you think that man values my life, you are sorely mistaken. I was dead to him from the moment I was born. A fate only sealed when my sister and I were sold off as political hostages and left to die."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Leila, guard him," General Smilas orders as he turns around. "He'll be useful."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, having finally escaped her squadron’s incessant questions, Leila collapses on her bed in her sparsely furnished quarters. Lelouch bore their scrutiny with a placid smile, but his single eye never rested in one spot as he scanned their surroundings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The desperate trek through the snow has caught up with her in the form of screaming muscles and a pounding headache. Lelouch is barely standing, only kept up by sheer force of will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sit," she pleads. He does. "I'm sorry... I didn't want you to die."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I may not have been in the right frame of mind, but I still formulated those plans. The deaths of countless civilians are on my shoulders."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you'll destroy Britannia for it," she says, grabbing his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eye widens in surprise, and he chuckles. "Yes, I will. And where will you be when the E.U. realizes I'm a worthless hostage and convenient martyr?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fulfilling my promise to return you to Ashford." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either the E.U. will realize what a boon it is to have Zero on their side, or she will follow him to strike a crippling blow against Britannia. While he may have been their opponent, even when he was out of commission and locked in a room, they had failed to dislodge the Britannian forces. He can, at least that's the justification she tells herself as fond warmth swells in her chest when he squeezes her hand in understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think my sister would like you very much," he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll rescue her," she assures. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods mutely and graces her with another rare, sincere smile. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I said I would write a Leila/Lelouch fic for Valentine’s day… and I tried but lost the / along the way. This thing they call attraction is very hard. I’m also realizing that this feels like the first chapter of a long-fic, and I’m half tempted to continue it. For now though, it will stand on its own. </p><p>I hope everyone enjoyed this. Leave a comment on your way out? :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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